


you make me a believer

by enbyofdionysus



Series: the self-indulgent fics [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cock Slapping, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Edging, Embarrassment Kink, M/M, Nipple Play, Public Sex, Threesomes, Unnegotiated Kink, Voyeurism, kind of??, percy getting off on other people watching him, this whole fic started off as a competition fic with a threeway and it turned into a bag of sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-08 01:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: The gods had always been a part of Percy's life – that was a given from the night the Minotaur flipped his step-dad's Camaro to the day Lester Papadopoulos showed up at his apartment door – but while the gods actively sought out Percy Jackson to solve their problems, Percy Jackson never actively sought the gods out. Which is why it was so strange when Hermes and Apollo began to come out of the wood work to do nothing more than sleep with him.AKA Hermes and Apollo have a competition to see who can make Percy cum the most.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys have not read the tags, I recommend you do so so you know just how deep in the kink bin you guys are about to go.

The first time it happened had been on a morning jog.

The gods had always been a part of Percy's life – that was a given from the night the Minotaur flipped his step-dad's Camaro to the day Lester Papadopoulos showed up at his apartment door – but while the gods actively sought out _Percy Jackson_ to solve their problems, Percy Jackson never actively sought _the gods_ out. He wanted to live as much of a normal life as possible for a demigod. Which meant planning a normal future, a future that didn't revolve around killing monsters and defeating Titans. And future like that meant staying away from quests, meant focusing on school.

It meant training for the entrance exams for the NYPD.

Percy first started jogging along the woodland path just outside of Camp Half-Blood between work and studying. It was both a good way to increase his endurance for his physical exam and to keep his head clear for the paper ones. (It also helped him pay more attention to his audio books, which otherwise just went in one ear and out the other thanks to his ADHD). But at some point his jog-breaks gradually became morning-jogs and soon Percy became _That Guy_. The guy that woke up at six not because of work, but to work out.

Percy could hear his twelve-year-old self asking “Who _are_ you?” But it made him feel good. Dawn had always been his favorite time of the day, when the air was just cold enough to make him hunch his shoulders and the world outside the city – with its low mumble of delivery trucks – was just coming to life.

What Percy hadn't realized, though, was that he wasn't the only person who liked to jog along that trail. It was a prime spot, with level land and good sun, so of course he'd come across some average runners and sometimes the occasional biker. But what he'd never expected to come across was a very familiar man with very familiar silver Nike sneakers, very familiar salt and pepper hair, and a very familiar shoulder-to-waist ratio he'd only ever seen on one other person.

“Lord Hermes?”

The man's shoulders visibly tensed. He slowed his jog just as he passed a fallen branch and then stopped. Turned. Immediately, Percy felt his skin pebble. In the soft glow of the morning sun, in the chorus of birds and distant crickets, Hermes looked far less like who Percy knew to be Luke's dad and more like, well, a god. The clever, dangerous glint in his silver eyes was positively threatening.

Percy stared.

Hermes blinked.

And then he was himself again. The angles of his face softened; his hackles went down. “Percy Jackson?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

Percy said, “Same as you,” and took the few extra steps to catch up to him. Up close, Hermes looked far more like Luke than he'd given him credit for several years ago – they had the same eyes, the same handsome set of his jaw. He smelled like fresh sweat and some kind of muted, woodsy cologne; Percy took far more breaths than necessary. “At least, I'm assuming so. Or are you working?”

Hermes gave a small smile that had very little to do with actual humor. “Technically,” he said, “I'm always working. But I like to spend the mornings I have to myself out here.” He looked up at the sky, blue and cloudless, and then to the sun. Percy's heart picked up on its own volition. “It's peaceful out here.”

“It is,” Percy agreed. He gestured in front of him at the path and cleared his throat. “Uh. If you want, I can leave you be. I didn't mean to interrupt you – I just didn't expect you to, y'know, be out here. And not–” He waved his hand around his head.

Hermes smiled again, but this time more genuinely. “It's alright,” he said. “I don't mind the company.” And then for a split second Percy swore he saw Hermes' eyes flicker down and up.

Percy's face warmed. He ran a hand through his sweaty curls. “Okay,” he said.

They jogged in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Percy had expected it to be awkward, to feel like he was jogging with his boss's boss or something, but if Percy didn't think too much about it, if he just glanced casually over at Hermes every now and then to watch the sweat trickle down into the soft dip of his collarbone, if he just glanced casually over at Hermes every now and then to catch the gentle swell of the god's arms, if he just glanced casually over at Hermes every now and then to catch Hermes casually glancing back at him, then it felt like something else entirely.

After that, it wasn't as if Percy actively looked for Hermes on the trail, but if he happened to find the god he didn't avoid him either. He did notice, however, that Hermes often joined him on the hotter days when Percy had to peel his shirt from his body and tuck it into his gym shorts.

So when Hermes pressed him up against a thick Maple on a muggy morning in July, his lean hands sliding up the sweaty skin of Percy's stomach, chest, neck, face, and kissed him, Percy couldn't say he was surprised.

The bark of the tree scraped against Percy's naked back. His own hands fumbled for Hermes' shoulders, groaning when the god pressed his thigh between his legs. The sun, for some reason, seemed to blind him despite the thickness of the trees. Percy closed his eyes against it and let himself feel rather than think.

Hermes was firm against his palms, lithe but sturdy. His lips were thin, but soft and pressed hot against his neck, making Percy squirm and press back against the tree. He prayed it wasn't a nymph.

Hermes' hand, somehow so quick, so sure, shoved its way down into his gym shorts. Percy swore, rocking his hips forward, his mouth opening on a silent gasp. A squirrel skittered in the branches above them and suddenly Percy was very much aware of how open they were. Anyone could come by them at any second. But that knowledge only made Percy spread his legs wider, made him press his chest against the rough ridges of Hermes' sweat-soaked tank. He didn't do it because of the thrill of being caught, but because of the small kink kicking around in the back of his libido that warmed his entire body – the thrill of being watched.

Percy opened his eyes for a brief moment and stared into the hot light of the sun.

Hermes swept his thumb across the head of his cock.

Percy _moaned_.

He closed his eyes.

Hermes' hand became tighter, moved faster. His lips seared the skin of Percy's neck. Percy's bit into the salty skin of his shoulder so he wouldn't say anything, wouldn't beg for anything, but he couldn't stop the soft gasps as he edged closer, closer.

“There you go,” Hermes murmured against his ear just as Percy's thighs began to shake, just as he began to thrust minutely into the calloused hole of Hermes' fist. “Just a little more, huh?”

“Fuck,” Percy growled.

“Yeah,” answered Hermes.

“ _Fuck_.”

“ _Yeah_.”

Hermes ran his fingers just so, just _so_ , beneath the head and rubbed and rubbed and _rubbed_. Percy barreled over the edge in silence. Hermes held him through it, breathing against the shell of his ear. Only when Percy's legs could hold his weight again did he step back, finger curling in the elastic of Percy's shorts and pulling back, back before letting it go with a scandalous _snap_.

That dangerous, clever look was back in his eyes as he licked Percy's cum from his palm.

Percy swallowed.

Hermes took another step back, looking every inch the god he was in the bright silhouette of the early morning sun. “See you around, Jackson,” he said and fucking _winked_. Then, before Percy could even gather himself, he took off down the path and out of sight.

**

The second time it happened had been on a night out.

The sun had set hours ago, relieving the bulk of the city of its immeasurable summer heat and leaving it with a pleasant warmth that gave Percy the gift of girls in short dresses and boys in sleeveless tanks. It was a night to forget the stress of his exam results, to forget the real numbers in his bank account, to forget trying to find an apartment that didn't have drug deals happening next door.

It was a night to live, to dance, to drink, to breathe. It was a night to check out Jason's arms as they rocked on a crowded dance floor and not feel guilty about it. It was a night not to be annoyed by Frank and Leo's bickering, but to be charmed by it. It was a night to take a shot of lemon vodka and then another and then another until Percy wasn't just happy to dance, but god damn _confident_ about it. He felt amazingly stupid, amazingly good, and Jason's full lips were amazingly close to his ear when he said, “There's a guy checking you out.”

Percy blinked around, the world both slowed down and in HD. Unable to find a pair of eyes, he asked, “Where?” The bass had increased its tempo and Percy vaguely recognized the song. He started moving to it unconsciously.

Jason nodded toward the bar and Percy tried, again, to follow his eyes.

This time, he spotted the target: a dark-skinned guy not much older than Percy with fine cheekbones and gold curls cropped-short. Percy recognized him from somewhere, but he couldn't think of where. His stare alone, unwavering even as he took a sip of his drink, warmed Percy to his bones.

He swallowed once and adjusted himself in his jeans. Jason noticed, giving him a look.

“You want me to go with you?” he asked, but Percy shook his head.

The trip across the dance floor seemed to take forever, but eventually Percy found himself beside the bar and running his eyes up a pair of jean-clad thighs that deserved to be pressed against the sides of his head.

At least, that's what he thought until Percy made eye-contact.

From afar, it had been intimidating, sexy.

Up close, Percy would know those eyes anywhere.

“You asshole,” he greeted.

Apollo grinned at him, not chastised in the least. “Please,” he said, “I don't like to be objectified.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Apollo asked. He gestured to the mass of bodies grinding around them, drunk and happy and sweating and alive. “I'm here for the same reason you are.”

“I'm not sleeping with you.”

“Seemed pretty keen on it a moment ago.”

Percy scowled.

Apollo laughed. He shot back the rest of his drink and set it back on the counter with a clatter. “I have an idea,” he said.

“No thanks,” answered Percy.

“How about a dance?”

Percy looked at him flatly. “A dance,” he said.

“A dance,” agreed Apollo. “A chance to let you change your mind.”

“I'm not going to change my mind.”

Apollo shrugged. “I won't force the issue. If you make a move, the move is yours.”

“I'm not going to make a move.”

“Alright.”

Percy tilted his chin in challenge. “Let's dance, then.”

Apollo smiled, genuine this time, not arrogant. “Swell,” he said, and then finished his drink.

 

Percy made a move.

It was as if Himeros had laughed in his ear the second he took Apollo's hand, the second he let Apollo press close to him, the second the bass dropped.

Apollo, luckily, didn't rub it in his face. Instead, he responded to the kiss Percy planted on him smoother than anyone Percy had ever kissed. His hands found Percy's jaw and gently tilted his head to the right so they melded together, tilted his hips in the middle of the song to make them rub together.

“Is this okay?” Apollo asked.

Percy answered, albeit breathlessly, “Yeah.”

And then proceeded to surprise them both by grinding his hips forward in a way that had less to do with the DJ and more to do with the chubbing along the side of his pant-leg.

The wave of bodies around them kept them hidden even as Apollo locked his hand on the side of Percy's hip, even as Apollo locked his lips on the side of Percy's neck. They rocked to the speed of the music, grinding to the low thrum of the bass, and Percy had never felt so hot, so alive.

Apollo was hard in his own jeans. The reality of it pressing fierce against his own cock made Percy shudder. His fingers reached for Apollo's curls, holding them if only to anchor himself, if only to keep Apollo there there there.

Apollo's teeth grazed his skin. His nails trailed across Percy's chest, then his back, lifting the wet, sticky fabric of his tank top to feel the slick skin there before going lower, lower. His fingers tugged at the back of Percy's waistband and, before Percy even realized what was happening, Apollo's hand was in the back of his jeans, pressing him impossibly closer to Apollo's front, pressing impossibly _into_ him.

The burn of Apollo's finger was ignored in lieu of the burn of blood rushing to Percy's face. Apollo wasn't making an effort to not get caught anymore and when Percy blinked his eyes open for the briefest of moments he felt the stare of at least three other guys watching them. Heat pooled in Percy's veins.

Percy pressed his hips down, forward, down, forward, down, forward.

“Give it,” Percy rasped, his hands shaking on Apollo's shoulders, in his hair. “I'm almost– _Yeah_.”

Someone pressed against his back, but he couldn't tell if it was intentional or not. Apollo's hand on his ass, _in_ his ass, was practically possessive. His fingers hooked roughly and the pain of it, the rudeness of it, had Percy shuddering hard.

He choked on Apollo's name.

Apollo kissed him through it.

Kissed him and kissed him and kissed him.

But he didn't leave.

Wiping his hand on the back of Percy's jeans, he weaved a finger through Percy's belt-loop and pulled him away from the dance floor, away from the club, away from the street, grinning and grinning and grinning. And Percy grinned back and back and back.

**

The third time it happened was in the bathroom of Percy's favorite burger place.

 _Olympus Burgers_ was located mid-way down 6th and had been discovered accidentally by Annabeth during a late-night study-binge. The quiet atmosphere, cheap but good food, and chic industrial furniture made it a hit with Annabeth's love for architecture and design (as well as Percy's wallet). Ever since, the place became a regular group hangout, especially on Saturdays when onion rings were free.

The group had met up to celebrate the last of their exams and Percy was celebrating getting his own results back – a beautiful “89” printed in Garamond at 12 pt font – and with the energy of his good mood he planned on asking a cute girl at the bar for her number.

Sliding down from the stool at their table, he felt Leo give his arm a punch for good luck, and then he carefully went off to the restroom to make sure there wasn't any bacon in his teeth.

There was only one other person in the bathroom and so he thought nothing of it, avoiding eye-contact and running his tongue over his teeth in the mirror. No bacon. No lettuce. He had a few stray hairs that weren't curling in the same direction as the others, but there wasn't much Percy could do about that; water only made it worse.

“I wouldn't worry too much,” came a familiar voice. “You look good.”

Percy blinked, then zeroed in on the other reflection in the mirror. The other man in the restroom was leaning against the wall of the single stall. His hair was no longer salt-and-pepper, but simply dark and combed back. His t-shirt had been exchanged with a soft blue Henley and his jogging shorts with dark jeans. “Hermes?” he asked and turned.

It made sense to meet the god on the jogging trail, but here it seemed strange.

Percy's eyes flicked to the bathroom door and back. “Is there a monster?”

“Oh,” Hermes said, stepping off the wall towards him. Percy caught a wicked hint of cologne. “No. I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I would stop by to see you.”

“Oh,” Percy said. Then, “I'm fine.”

“I can see that,” Hermes said. He came to a stop in front of him and his eyes flicked down to Percy's chest, then back up to his face. “Green suits you,” he said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Percy responded with an awkward, unattractive laugh. “Thanks, I– Yeah, I have green eyes.” He gestured to his face. “They're kind of a thing.”

Hermes' own mouth quirked. “I'm coming on a little hard, aren't I?”

Percy's laugh turned relieved. “A little.”

Hermes' body visibly relaxed and in response so did Percy's. “I apologize,” Hermes said, “I thought you might be into it.”

“You mean you were flirting?” Percy joked. “I thought you were trying to eat me.”

Hermes laughed, then stepped a little closer. This time, Percy let him come. “I've missed jogging with you,” he admitted.

“Mornings gotten a little busy lately?”

“They have,” Hermes agreed. He reached out, paused a moment, then let his fingers trail from Percy's stomach to his waistband. Percy shuddered. “I haven't had much time to interact with anyone who isn't a customer.” His eyes found Percy's. “And I've been thinking of our morning together fairly often.”

Percy watched as Hermes' fingers, nimble and slim, undid the button on his jeans. He swallowed. “Me too,” he admitted.

“I was wondering,” Hermes asked, “if it would be possible to do it again.”

Percy figured 'again' didn't mean 'later'. His mind flashed to the girl at the bar and he opened his mouth to say 'maybe another time' when Hermes' fingers slid along the outline of his cock through his jeans and, well.

He didn't often have gods asking to give him a blowjob.

The second Percy consented, Hermes pulled him back against the wall just across from the door and for a moment Percy thought they were going to leave the restroom. But then Hermes got down on his knees in one swift movement and, before Percy could even comprehend that the door wasn't locked, his pants were down to his thighs and his cock kissed the cool air.

Percy spluttered, “ _Jeez_ ,” and fumbled for a moment, unsure what to do with his hands. Hermes didn't wait for him to find out. His own hand found the base of Percy's soft, but rapidly hardening, cock. His own lips found the head, then slid down, down.

“ _Oh_ ,” Percy choked, his hands finally going for Hermes' shoulders, for Hermes' hair, for Hermes' anything. “Aren't– _Fuck_. The door–?”

Hermes slid him from his mouth, holding his half-hard cock in his fist. “I thought you liked this?”

“Well, yeah,” Percy said, swallowing. “It's good, I just– I mean we're right by the–”

“No,” Hermes said, “I meant I thought you liked people seeing you like this.”

Percy's face warmed with embarrassment, which, in turn, made his cock twitch. “How'd you...?”

Hermes smiled up at him. “I have my sources. But if it makes you uncomfortable...” He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Percy heard the bolt on the door slide into place.

Knowing it was locked did make Percy more comfortable, but, thinking about it, Hermes had a point. Where they were, if anyone came in, Percy would be the first one they saw: his thighs apart against a wall, his mouth open, falling apart in in Hermes' mouth. And if it was one of his friends, they wouldn't be seeing Percy Jackson: Titan War Hero and Tartarus Survivor. They'd be seeing Percy Jackson: Sloppy Mess Against The Wall. The thought of it – a thought he only quietly fantasized about when he had to go to bed early, but still wanted to jerk off – made him ache.

Percy let himself fantasize about it now, just a little, hips jerking unconsciously as Hermes kissed the side of his cock, thumbs roaming over the head.

He imagined someone standing in the doorway, door wide open for anyone and everyone to see. He imagined people standing in the doorway jeering as they watched, not enough to make him feel the need to cover up, but enough to make him want to spread his thighs wider. Enough to make Percy's skin flush just the way he liked it.

Hermes' grip tightened around him and Percy tugged on Hermes' hair to let him know he was close. His thighs were shaking even before Hermes rolled his balls in his palm, even before Hermes took the length of him to the back of his mouth and pressed down, down, even before Hermes reached up with his hand and held it against Percy's stomach as he came.

When Hermes stood, it was as if nothing had happened. He still looked as impeccable as ever, the only sign of the blowjob being the dot of cum on the side of his mouth which he easily licked off. Percy swallowed hard, tucking himself back into his jeans. Was it weird to say thank you?

“Here,” Percy said instead, intent suddenly on returning the favor – Hermes hadn't cum the last time they did this. But before he could reach for Hermes' waistband, the god took a step back.

“It's alright,” Hermes said with a wink. “I can handle myself.”

“But,” Percy said, frowning.

Hermes reached down for his hand and kissed the inside of his palm. “I'll see you around, Jackson,” he said. And then, like on their morning jog, he disappeared.

**

The fourth time was on a fire escape.

Percy rarely had Saturdays off from work and with the rare occasion of actually having a normal weekend, he intended on doing only the greatest thing: nothing.

So far he had succeeded: he slept for three extra hours, he took his time making breakfast and had five lightly-burned blue pancakes instead of his usual oatmeal-and-protein-powder, and by ten he was relaxing against the rail of his fire escape with a hot cup of coffee.

The morning sun warmed his bare chest and Percy closed his eyes against it if only to bask in it for a couple of moments.

At least until a hint of citrus and woodsy cologne touched his nose. Percy recognized it immediately and was grateful for the warning so when the lilting voice spoke beside him he didn't jump.

“You know,” Apollo said, “I could watch you all day.”

Percy opened his eyes a smidge and peered over at him.

Dressed in a striped shirt and white board shorts, Apollo looked as if he had been there the whole time. A pair of reflective sunglasses perched in his golden curls. In spite of his irritation, which seemed false itself at this point, Percy found himself smiling.

“You know,” Percy replied, “that makes you sound creepy.”

Apollo grinned back. “You know how I meant it.”

Percy took a sip of his coffee. “So what monster needs slaying?”

Apollo raised a perfect eyebrow. “Why would you assume there's a monster?”

Percy scrunched an imperfect one. “Why wouldn't I?”

“Point.”

“Thanks.”

“No monster,” Apollo assured him. He lifted his elbows from the side of the fire escape and leaned on his hands instead. His eyes slid slowly from Percy's face down to his chest, over his stomach, and then to his gray sweatpants. “Just wanted to stop by.”

After the whole god-made-mortal ordeal Percy could believe it, but still he was suspicious. “To hang out?”

“Something like that,” Apollo said. Finally he met his eyes again and offered the same grin he'd given Percy at the club. “Honestly, it would have been a shame to pass up seeing you in my favorite sweatpants.”

“Favorite...?” Percy looked down at his pants. “What's so great about them?”

Apollo laughed a quiet laugh, but didn't answer. Instead he reached over, gingerly took Percy's coffee from him, and took a deliberate sip of it.

“Fucking rude,” Percy said without heat.

Apollo said, “I know,” set the coffee down on the windowsill, and kissed him.

Percy kissed back with ease, having been expecting it, and when Apollo rested his hands on his knees Percy spread them just enough to let the god slide between them.

“This,” Apollo said against his lips, against his jaw, against his neck, “is my favorite place to be.”

“The Upper East Side?” Percy asked. His fingers held tight to Apollo's curls, knowing full well his neck was going to be decorated in dark blotches come tomorrow.

“No,” Apollo answered.

He ground his hips forward and Percy groaned. He felt the need to point out, “This is a little dangerous.”

Apollo's teeth dragged across his throat. Percy swore. “I'll keep you from falling.”

“You better.”

Apollo kissed him again, the tip of his tongue dipping against Percy's just enough to make the kiss messy without being sloppy and, when he pulled back, his teeth tugged Percy's lower lip before letting go. He said, “Can't decide what to do with you.”

Percy snorted. “You know,” he said, “I have a bed inside.”

“Oh, I'm aware,” replied Apollo.

And then his hand disappeared beneath the waistband of Percy's sweats.

“ _Shit_.”

“Sorry,” Apollo said against his ear, “not into that.”

Percy laughed in spite of himself. Then groaned and leaned a little heavier against the rail as Apollo's hand grew more ambitious. His hand, tight and warm and unrelenting, pumped him slowly and carefully until Percy began to thrust up into his fist to get the pace faster, harder.

Finally, after several agonizing moments, he gasped “ _Please_.”

Apollo's teeth tugged on his earlobe. His fingers slid from the length of Percy's cock to the head, his other hand grabbing at the waistband of his sweatpants and tugging them down, down until they were taut around Percy's trembling thighs.

Apollo's hand rubbed along the underside of Percy's exposed cock – finger sliding just along his slit – and then finally surrounded him once more without mercy, his fist moving fast, fast, fast.

Percy's legs couldn't spread wide enough, trapped against the waistband, and when Apollo gave a quiet laugh he looked up, face pink, and asked breathlessly, “ _What?_ ”

Apollo met his eyes. “You're already giving quite a show.”

Percy blinked. Registered. Looked down.

A couple of guys had stopped on the sidewalk below and were staring up at his bare ass, his bare cock, his bare chest. The smoke from one of their cigarettes curled up, up in the summer heat.

Apollo's voice was raspy against the shell of his ear. “Wanna show them what you really look like?”

His fist tightened.

Sped up.

The smell of the cigarette reached Percy.

He was not quiet when he came and, days later, he was still jerking off to the sound of the men's shameless applause.

**

“Okay,” Percy said as he slid the book-bag from his shoulder. “Something's up.”

He'd just finished class and had been looking forward to watching the last two episodes of Stranger Things with a beer and leftover spaghetti when he'd opened the door of his studio to find Hermes sprawled on his futon, khaki shorts hiked up just the right amount on his thighs for Percy to cast them a glance before scowling up at his face.

Hermes glanced up far too casually from his cell phone. No person should look so good in a navy polo shirt. “What do you mean?” he asked as if it weren't odd for him to be there, as if Percy had intruded on _his_ apartment.

Percy refused to buy into the innocent-routine; Hermes' legs were open far too wide for anything non-salacious. He dumped his bag onto the floor and his button-down followed suit. Percy saw Hermes glance at his shoulders. “I mean,” Percy said, “either you and Apollo are in love with my cock – doubtful, by the way, it's not that great – or something's up.”

Something passed over Hermes' face at the mention of Apollo's name and, for several moments, he continued to sit there, slouched against the back of the futon until finally he sighed and sat forward.

“Alright,” he said, “something _is_ up.”

“If you tell him, you forfeit,” Apollo's voice suddenly called from the kitchen.

Percy's scowl deepened and he turned toward the sound of Apollo's voice. “Forfeit?”

Hermes winced. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't make that face,” he said. “You look far too much like Poseidon.”

Percy did not change expressions. The pipes rattled.

Hermes sighed again. “We may have... been having a competition.”

“A competition.”

“Yes,” said Hermes. “It began after I started jogging with you. Apollo suggested it.”

Apollo appeared from the kitchen, dressed in cargo shorts and a faded t-shirt, holding a glass of orange juice. Percy did not tell him it had expired three days ago. Offended, Apollo said, “Don't you throw me under the Sun Bus.”

Hermes scowled at him. “It _was_ your suggestion.”

“Yeah, well, you agreed to it.”

“Suggested what?” Percy snapped.

Hermes spread his hands as if to say 'oh, well'. “Suggested a competition to see which one of us could make you orgasm the most.”

Percy stared at him. Stared at Apollo. “What?”

Apollo shrugged. “Anyone can fuck a mortal,” he said. “But being good at it is another thing entirely.”

“And so,” Percy said, slowly, “you thought you would. What? Use me to see which one of you is better at fucking?”

“Oh, no,” Hermes said.

“No,” agreed Apollo.

“The competition was just harmless fun,” Hermes said.

“Yes,” agreed Apollo.

“Harmless fun,” repeated Percy.

“We would have aimed to sleep with you regardless,” Hermes said.

“Absolutely,” agreed Apollo.

Percy was confused.

Hermes reached for him.

Percy let him.

Apollo met them on the arm of the futon.

“You're a very attractive man,” Hermes said, his slim fingers curling gently along the tender inside of Percy's wrist. “If you had let us,” he said, “our experiences with you would have transpired even without the competition Apollo and I had made.”

“So you're saying,” Percy said, frowning, “that you guys weren't using me?”

“No,” Hermes said.

“We just both happen to like the sounds you make,” Apollo added with a small smile.

“And the way your skin feels,” added Hermes.

“And the way your hole feels,” added Apollo.

“ _Okay_ ,” added Percy.

They were quiet for a moment.

Apollo asked, “Are you mad?”

Percy chewed at his lip. Finally, he answered, “No.”

“Oh,” Hermes said, “good.”

“But since you two were so into a certain kink of mine,” Percy said and took his wrist from Hermes. He went to the closet and reached up to the highest shelf, pulling down a box.

“You've gotten us a gift?” Apollo asked.

Percy didn't need to be looking at them to know the following curse was because Hermes had punched him. “Something like that.” Percy stood and turned. At the sight of the dildo and lube, Apollo's face lit up. Hermes' eyes darkened. Percy said, “I'm going to give you guys a show.”

**

“Take your pants off,” Hermes suggested, voice husky.

Percy had set up two chairs across from the futon, which he'd folded down into a bed like a stage. Hermes sat in one chair, leaning forward intently with his elbows resting on his knees. Apollo sat in the other, the chair turned backwards so his well-toned arms folded across the back of it.

Percy was across from them on his knees, fully dressed on the futon but feeling exposed nonetheless. A fantasy, he'd realized, was one thing; having that fantasy brought to life was another. Apollo and Hermes on separate occasions was one thing; having them together was another. Having both Apollo _and_ Hermes _and_ the fantasy?

Something burned low in Percy's gut.

Apollo shook his head. “Leave the pants on,” he said.

“Pants off,” Hermes disagreed.

“Pants _on_ ,” Apollo said. Then, “Trace your cock through your jeans.”

Hermes opened his mouth to argue, but seemed to think better of it.

Percy obliged and spread his knees wider on the futon, reaching sensually down his shirt, over his stomach, to his jeans. He felt for the pant-leg where his hardening cock rested and gripped it gently through the denim. Hermes' breath hitched at the girth, Apollo's as Percy ran his nails over it.

“Just the head,” Apollo said.

Percy thumbed the head gently.

Apollo sighed, “ _Yeah_.”

“Smack it,” Hermes said quietly.

Apollo's eyebrows immediately furrowed. “Don't,” he said, “don't do that.”

Hermes frowned at him. “If he likes it–”

“You don't smack someone's–”

Percy gently slapped his cock through his jeans, face flushing – pleasantly, to his surprise – at the pain.

Hermes shuddered and shifted in his seat.

Apollo winced.

“Take it out,” Hermes suggested. “Let us see you.”

Percy undid his belt slowly, his breath picking up as he unzipped his jeans. He heard the faint groan of chair legs on hardwood floors. When he pulled himself out, Apollo was quick to say, “Don't stroke yourself yet.”

Percy looked up at him, body hot. The instruction bit hadn't really been a part of the plan, but now that it was Percy found himself getting harder than he'd like to admit. He followed Apollo's orders – _orders_ , he shivered – and simply held his cock in his hand. Apollo told him to feel the warmth of it, the weight of it. Percy did.

“Now let yourself go,” Apollo said.

Percy did. His cock pointed toward the gods. He did not touch it.

Apollo said, “Rub your chest.”

“Through your shirt,” added Hermes.

“Don't touch your cock until I see pre-cum.”

Percy swallowed hard and reached up to his shirt, running the tips of his fingers first over the soft fabric of his t-shirt and then finally over the soft skin of his nipples. He felt them bead beneath his care until he could see them poke gently through the shirt. He ran his nails over them, pinched them between his thumb and forefingers, and then proceeded to rub the soreness away.

Hermes adjusted himself on the chair again and Percy watched as he slipped his own hand down into his gym shorts. Apollo kept his hands on the back of his chair, but the hard line of his cock was noticeable through his cargo shorts.

“Can I touch my cock yet?” Percy asked. His nipples were becoming sensitive under the unexpected attention and the teasing swirl of his fingers was making him edgy.

“Is there pre-cum?” Hermes asked.

Percy looked down. His cock, fully hard now, pointed more-so now to the ceiling than to the gods. He answered, “No.”

“Then no,” Hermes replied.

Percy shuddered, but reached back to his chest. It took nearly five minutes for pre-cum to bead on the tip of Percy's cock and only then was he allowed to touch himself. But not the way Percy wanted to.

“Smear it around the tip,” Apollo instructed. “Then suck on your finger.”

“Fuck,” Percy muttered, but did so. His hips bucked against his own hand as he ran his index finger down and around his tip, around the slit. He brought it to his mouth, the salty tang familiar on his tongue. Meeting Apollo's hungry eyes, he asked, “Now can I...?”

“You can stroke yourself,” Hermes said, drawing Percy's attention. “But only one finger allowed at a time.”

Apollo grinned at Hermes. “I like the way you think.”

Hermes' lips twitched. “Which means no fingers on your cock when there's one in your hole.”

“Guys,” Percy argued. _Whined_. “Guys, that's not fair.”

“It's not,” Hermes agreed. He squeezed himself through his shorts and then pulled himself out: a slim, but long cock that matched his slim fingers. “But you'll do it because we said so, isn't that right?”

Percy bit his lip. His index finger stroked over his slit, then down the length of his cock and back up. It wasn't enough. He asked, “If I use more than one finger?”

“Then we leave,” Apollo answered with a dismissive shrug, “and no one gets to see your hole open up for your toy.” He smiled knowingly. “And we all know how much you want us to watch you.”

“Gods, fuck you,” Percy spat, his hips shaking.

Hermes' eyebrows raised. “You really need a hand on your cock?”

Percy shuddered. “Yeah.”

“That bad?”

“ _Yeah_.”

“Damn,” Apollo said, feigning a frown. “Then I guess we're going to have to give you a hand.”

Hermes smirked. Again, he said, “Smack it.”

Immediately Percy's body flushed hot. “What?” he asked.

“You want a hand on your cock,” Hermes said. “So smack your cock, Percy. That'll be the only way you'll get one.”

Percy swallowed hard and brought his hand back and with a shaky exhale. This time when his palm collided with the sensitive skin, he swore in a quiet voice.

“Good boy,” Apollo said. “Now since you were so eager to break our rules, why don't you rub those pretty nipples again for us? But this time until you cum.”

“If you cum at all,” Hermes added.

The teasing threat made Percy's cock throb, but Apollo hadn't been lying about breaking their rules. For nearly fifteen minutes he rubbed his nipples through his shirt, pinching and tugging at them, flicking them and circling them until they became _too_ sensitive and even then Hermes simply instructed him to lift his shirt and “keep going until they're raw.”

Only when Percy's thighs began to shake and he gave Apollo a pleading glance did the gods take pity on him, but even then it wasn't by much.

Apollo stood from his chair, licked his lips, and then made his way over to Percy with a predatory look in his eye. “I didn't say stop,” he tsked when Percy took his fingers away from his chest. He slid to his knees in front of the futon so he was eye-level with Percy's cock and then, tortuously, he ran his tongue just-so over and over the underside of his head.

Percy whined, his hips thrusting forward for friction that wasn't there. “Please,” he gasped, but Apollo only grinned.

“Keep your fingers working, Percy,” Hermes said from his chair. His hand was slowly pumping at his own cock. “And maybe we'll let you have an orgasm.”

“I wouldn't count on it, though,” Apollo said, kissing the head of Percy's cock. He didn't use his hands or take him into his mouth. “I really do love watching you writhe like this.” He swiped his tongue across his slit, quick and light.

Percy thrust his hips forward, swearing.

Apollo simply moved his mouth away with a soft laugh. “Is that any way to get what you want, Percy? You're supposed to ask nicely, aren't you?”

“ _Please_ ,” Percy ground between his teeth. “Please, suck my cock, let me cum, _please_. Please, please, _please_.”

“Nope,” Apollo said in a sing-song voice. “That's not nice enough, Percy.”

“Or what we want to hear,” Hermes said from his chair.

“Do you think you deserve to cum, Percy?” Apollo asked. “Just after rubbing your nipples and stroking your cock?”

Percy bit his lip, his hands balling into fists in his t-shirt. “No,” he guessed.

“That's right,” Apollo said and kissed the tip of his cock again. It twitched against his full lips, eager. “Orgasms don't come to greedy boys. Do you want to rub your chest for a little longer until you learn your lesson?”

Percy bit back a desperate sound. “No.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“I want to cum.”

“I know, Percy, but what do you have to do in order to earn it?”

“ _Fucking_ – I don't know.”

“Think, Percy.”

“Greedy boys don't get to cum.”

“That's right.”

“I need to not... Not be greedy.”

“That's right.”

“I need to get you guys off?”

“There you go,” Apollo said and kissed the tip of his cock again. “And how do you want to get us off?”

“I...” Percy's brain short-circuited. He thought of the dildo. “My ass. Use my ass.”

“But I thought you wanted to use your toy.”

“Greedy boys don't get toys.”

Apollo _grinned_. “That's right, Percy. Greedy boys don't get good things. But you're thinking about us now, so you get a little treat. Does your pretty hole want a toy?”

“Yes, please.”

“I didn't hear that.”

Percy's cock twitched. “My pretty hole wants a toy.”

Apollo climbed onto the futon and kissed him softly. In his ear, he whispered, “Watch Hermes while I get you ready.”

Percy licked his lips and let his eyes easily drift to Hermes. The god's jerking off was reminiscent of the hand-job Percy had received on the trail – tight and slow, but fast at the top. Percy watched his hand jealously, sweat dripping down the side of his face.

He startled when Apollo's hands appeared on his sides, thumbs tugging his jeans as far down as possible until the waistband was tight around his thighs just beneath his ass.

“Now this,” Apollo said, running his hand along the newly exposed skin, “I could wake up to every day.” He spread Percy's cheeks apart and gave a sigh dramatic enough for Percy to roll his eyes.

“It's not that great,” Percy muttered. “Hurry up.”

“That's because you can't see from my point of view,” Apollo disagreed. He slid two fingers into the crack, pressing just so over Percy's hole. He made a pleased sound when Percy clenched around him. “Hermes,” he said, “you could eat him out for _days_.”

Percy groaned. “ _Apollo_.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Apollo kissed his shoulder and Percy heard the soft click of the lube bottle. “ _Di Immortales_ , I'm looking forward to this.”

“Haven't you already fingered him?” Hermes asked, amused.

“Not from behind,” Apollo said. “I kind of want to change my mind about the toy.”

“You told him you would give it to him.”

“I know. But _ugh_.”

Percy gasped sharply at the sudden slide of Apollo's finger into him.

“Sorry,” Apollo said. He did not sound sorry. Especially when he didn't wait for Percy to adapt to the first finger before he slid in the second.

“Apollo,” Hermes chastised.

“It's fine,” Percy choked, although he did reach back with his left hand to hold Apollo's wrist. The lube dripped down between his cheeks, down his thighs. It felt disgusting; it made Percy's skin hotter.

Still, Hermes said, “Go slow.” And Apollo did.

His fingers were thicker than Hermes', but no less talented and he was easily able to find the best spots to rub, especially the rim. It felt good enough to make Percy's control begin to slip and after several moments of quiet moans and hitching breaths, Percy realized the dripping sound coming from the kitchen wasn't his sink leaking but the pressure building in the pipes beneath it.

Licking his lips, he caught himself – the last thing Percy wanted to do was think about dealing with his landlord at a time like this – and met Hermes' eyes. In a raspy, aching voice, he said, “Come here.”

Hermes stood from the chair, looking almost like Percy's mirror image in his hanging-low shorts and rucked up t-shirt. “I'm not going to make you cum yet, if that's what you're going to ask for,” he said, smiling.

Percy shook his head. Apollo had managed to squeeze in three fingers and the stretch was making it hard to focus. “Want to suck you. Please.”

For a second, Hermes' smile turned almost bashful, but the wicked glint in his eyes told no lies. “Do you think you could? You look a little tired.”

That earned him a scowl. “I can do it,” Percy said.

“Can you suck me off while Apollo fucks your ass?”

“I–”

“Or do you want to suck both of us off and have your toy fill you?”

“Pick the first one,” Apollo whispered.

Percy cracked up in spite of himself, casting the golden-haired god a glance over his shoulder.

Apollo bit back a grin and shrugged.

“The first one,” Percy agreed and looked back at Hermes. “I can take a challenge.”

**

Percy was sure his cock was going to fall off. He was sure it wasn't possible after being hard for only thirty minutes, but still the possibility was there. Especially now that he was spread out, naked, on the futon on all fours, his cock hanging full and heavy between his thighs.

Hermes had already slapped it a couple of times for fun, if only to make Apollo squirm in sympathy, before making his way to Percy's front and sliding the tip of his own hard cock along Percy's lips. “We cum before you do,” he reminded him.

Percy nodded.

“And only when we say so.”

“Yes.”

Apollo stroked the slope of his ass, thumb running along the edge of Percy's rim. “And when you do, you thank us.”

“Yes,” Percy agreed.

“Because toys shouldn't be cumming at all.”

The degradation made pre-cum drip from Percy's tip to the comforter. Apollo noticed. He pressed the tip of his thumb rudely into his hole and tugged just so on the rim.

“Yes,” Percy said again and then, because it made him feel good, added, “Thank you.”

Apollo and Hermes met each others' eyes.

Hermes softly tapped his cock against Percy's lips. “Open.”

Percy opened his mouth.

Apollo playfully tapped his cock against Percy's hole. “Open.”

Percy immediately pulled off Hermes' cock to laugh.

“Sorry,” Apollo said with a grin at Hermes' frown.

“He could have bitten me.”

“The sacrifices we make for comedy.”

Hermes didn't argue further, his eyes fluttering shut as Percy took him back into his mouth, feeling light and happy and hot and heavy all at once. Percy didn't usually enjoy sucking cock, but he did enjoy getting others off and had often practiced on his own dildos if only to make his fantasies of being the toy of literally any of his college's sports teams that much more real. (It was also because, on the off chance that he ever did get to suck someone off that wasn't a stranger on Grindr, he wanted to have the reputation of someone as good with his mouth as he was in the shooting range).

And if Hermes' expressions said anything at all, it was that Percy was holding up to his own desired reputation. The god's slim fingers glided easily into his curls, holding him on his cock without any force, letting Percy guide himself and take as much as he wanted, as much as he needed.

“How's he feel?” Apollo asked in a gravelly voice.

Hermes opened his eyes and looked down at Percy.

Percy met his eyes, taking him down, down.

Hermes groaned. “ _Good_.” He closed his eyes. Licked his lips. Opened his eyes. Looked to Apollo. “What about you?”

Apollo was being far more gentle than he had been with his fingers and had thus far pressed only an inch or so inside of Percy's ass. Still, Apollo snorted. “As if that's really a question that needs to be asked.”

Hermes rolled his eyes, then looked back down toward Percy. His thumb stroked his cheek, the hand in his hair feeling tender and soft. “You take cock so well.”

Percy closed his eyes at the compliment, moaning softly around Hermes as Apollo pushed further inside to where it was good, to where it was so, so good.

“Good boy,” Hermes said.

Percy whimpered and, at the familiar sound, Apollo swatted his ass. “Remember the rule.”

“ _Mm_ ,” Percy grunted and gripped the comforter in his fists. He opened his mouth wider to distract himself, taking Hermes deeper into the back of his throat and letting the discomfort keep him from the edge.

But despite Apollo's insistence on not cumming, he wouldn't let him forget it either. His thrusts began short and shallow, then gradually became slow and deep. He pulled out nearly all the way, making Percy huff through his nose at the tenderness of his rim, before pushing back in and making him whine.

“God, I love those sounds,” Apollo mumbled.

Percy sighed through his nose, pressing his hips back in an attempt to make Apollo go faster, harder. But the movement just made Apollo laugh and he easily held Percy's hips still. “Focus on Hermes' cock, sweetheart,” Apollo said. “I'll take care of myself.”

Percy snorted in frustration, but did as he was told and pulled his mouth up and off Hermes' cock to kiss up the side of it, tonguing the head. When Apollo finally picked up the pace behind him, giving faster thrusts but with his hands still tightly held to Percy's hips, Percy eased Hermes back into his mouth and tried to think back to the way the god jerked off. He brought his lips down, down, then hallowed out his cheeks on his way back up and firmed his lips over the head.

Hermes cursed.

Percy had to keep himself from smiling. After three more times, Hermes began to spread his legs a little wider and Percy knew. Closing his eyes, he sucked down, down, then back up, up, and finally stayed there. He reached up with his right hand, balancing on his left, and held Hermes' cock as he slid the tip over the flat of his tongue.

Hermes said something in Ancient Greek. And then shuddered. And shuddered.

Percy swallowed in victory.

Apollo, however, was harder to beat. Unable to move his hips, Percy had to resign himself to being used and letting himself enjoy it although he did have one last trick up his sleeve.

Apollo had made it known that he loved Percy's noises, but Percy wasn't a very vocal guy to begin with. So maybe the moans he made to get Apollo to thrust a little faster, maybe the groans he let out through bitten lips to get Apollo to thrust a little harder, maybe the whimpers he let out from the back of his throat to get Apollo to call him 'sweetheart' again were mostly for Apollo's benefit.

Sue him.

In any case, it worked.

With Hermes stroking the last of his cum from his sensitive cock by Percy's face, Apollo came in Percy's ass with a deep grunt.

“Now?” Percy asked when Apollo had climbed off of him. He looked at the gods expectantly, breath heavy, cock heavier, nipples hard and face sweaty.

“Now what?” Hermes asked.

Percy's smile began to slip. He licked his lips. “Now I get to cum?”

“Oh,” Apollo said, picking his pants up off the ground. “I don't know about that.”

Percy's face fell.

“Should we let him?” Apollo asked.

“He was pretty good,” Hermes said.

“But does he deserve it?”

The gods looked at him disinterestedly.

Percy swallowed hard.

Then he caught Apollo trying not to smile.

“I think so,” Hermes said.

“Yes,” Percy breathed.

Apollo climbed back onto the futon.

“Yes.”

Hermes followed him.

“ _Yes_.”

The fifth time was on Percy's futon in his tiny, mediocre Upper East Side apartment. Hermes' fingers were in his hair, his mouth on Percy's neck. His hand stroked Percy's cock in the tight heat of a calloused fist. Apollo's fingers were in Percy's ass, his mouth on Percy's mouth. His other hand stayed firm on the low of his back to keep him upright, to keep him steady. And when Percy came, finally, _finally_ , he did it with no noise, for no one's benefit but his own, the names of two gods on his silent lips.

 


End file.
